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The Collected Works of William Morris

With Introductions by his Daughter May Morris

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Then from the horse the boy did glide,
And slowly down the valley side
They went, and Michael, wakened now,
Sang such rude songs as he might know,
Grown fresh and joyous of his life;
While Samuel, clutching at the knife
About his neck that hung, again
Down in the bottom tightened rein,
And turning, in a hoarse voice spake:
“My girths are loosening, come and take
The straps and draw them tighter, lad.”